X-Ray Vision

Under the V

of her cashmere sweater

sacs of silicone

sag in tangled scar,

their arc of cleavage

a triumph

of false advertising,

a victory of form

over substance,

the seduction of quick profit

over long-term growth.

Her surgeon can see

through fabric and skin

to sterile implants

he has caressed

with double-gloved hands

like a thief in love

with his bag of jewels,

concealing them in flesh,

hiding his tracks

beneath each breast’s

broad curve.

And his X-ray vision

fixes the moment

her lover feels them

for the first time,

covered with smooth skin,

pressed to his chest

in darkness

harder than lost desire.